


A Chapter We Don't Read Out Loud

by wisteriawrites



Series: Second Chances Are For Those Who Ask [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Mysteries, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, Summer Love, Switch Choi San, Switch Jung Wooyoung, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29568432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisteriawrites/pseuds/wisteriawrites
Summary: After meeting a man that is strangely familiar to him, Wooyoung is plagued by dreams of a life that was not his own, both the good and the bad. It all seems to be connected to an apartment a few doors down from his own, where nobody lives for more than a month or two.Whenever he begins to feel like he's going insane, his new lover is always right there to catch him.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: Second Chances Are For Those Who Ask [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172249
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. I'm Dream In a Dream Every Night

Wooyoung was stupid. 

He was so ridiculously stupid, now that he thought about it, splayed out on the concrete and with a broken coffee cup in front of him. “I’m so sorry,” he began, scrambling to pick up the cup. “I wasn’t paying attention, I'll buy you a new one. I’m so, so sorry.”

He looked up at the stranger before him, and was hit with a wave of nostalgia once he saw the man’s face, which made no sense because he’d literally never seen this man before. He would’ve remembered a face like that, and had he still been his rambunctious freshman self, would have climbed on his dick real quick. 

The man knelt down in front of him to pick up the busted lid of the cup, and the movement drew Wooyoung’s eyes to his thighs beneath his ripped jeans. They were completely smooth, not a single flaw on them. He then followed the movement of his free hand dragging through his dyed pink hair, bringing him eye to eye with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, eyes all scrunched up with the force of it and dimples so deep they shouldn’t have been real. Wooyoung spared a quick glance to the man’s neck and found it littered with freckles and beauty marks, and he recalled something he’d seen on the internet about every beauty mark and freckle on you being a place a past lover had kissed. Whoever loved this man before must have really loved him. Wooyoung himself only had two.

“Don’t worry about it.” The man’s voice was sweet and smooth like honey. “But I might take you up on the new one. Only if you let me buy one for you, though.”

And Wooyoung couldn’t say no. Not when a man this perfect was offering him a free coffee, not when he still felt like he should _know_ this man, and definitely not when he wanted to go home with his number. “Okay,” he nodded before he could give any second thoughts.

The man stood back up and offered his hand to Wooyoung, which he took. “I’m San, by the way,” he said. San. Wooyoung really liked that name. It was pretty, to go perfectly with the owner.

“Wooyoung.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung made a noncommittal sound, trying not to sound as interested as he really was, and then San was leading him to wherever it was he’d gotten the coffee Wooyoung had so gracefully destroyed. It was a little local shop, not one of those big corporations like all the others, and he definitely was even more intrigued by the man. 

There was no line, orders were placed quickly, and Wooyoung found himself staring at San’s profile while they waited. He _swore_ he knew him from somewhere. It had to just be buried in the disaster that was his memory. Wooyoung sifted through all the house parties, all the hookups, everything, but he came up with nothing. He didn’t even realize that he was still staring intently at San until he turned his head and smiled. “Do you see something you like?”

“Have we met before?”

San’s laugh crinkled up his eyes cutely. “No, I don’t think so. I’d remember you,” he said. Wooyoung felt a little disappointed, but then he added, “But I’m glad you feel that way, too. I thought I might be crazy.”

So he wasn’t the only one. It was like San was reading his mind because then he was saying, “Maybe we’ve seen each other on campus?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung mumbled, sliding the drink that had just been finished towards himself and taking a sip. Even then, that didn’t feel like it was what happened. He felt like he _knew_ San, like they’d been friends for years and he knew almost everything about him, when in reality he knew his name, that they apparently attended the same university, and now he knew his favorite coffee order. 

As if on cue, San’s drink came up, and then he was gesturing for Wooyoung to follow him outside. The sun felt nice against his face. The semester was almost over, summer was well on its way, and he really couldn’t wait. He was supposed to be studying for exams, but he’d needed a walk to get away and take a break before his brain exploded, and we knew how that ended up. Just one more year of this, and then he could open up his own dance studio. Hopefully. Maybe. That was the plan. 

“Did you have to be somewhere?” San asked. Did he? Did he really need to go back home and study? Was he reading too much into that question. Yes, he definitely was. “No, not really.”

“Let me walk you home, then.”

Wooyoung really probably should have said no. There was no guarantee this man wasn’t about to murder him, or stalk him, or any other type of horrible thing. But instead he nodded, smiled at San, and led the way to his apartment.

❅

“-and then, come to find out, he lives in the building too - Hey! Are you even listening?”

Wooyoung tossed his spoon at his roommate, Yeosang, to grab his attention again, which he almost immediately regretted because how was he supposed to eat his ice cream now? Yeosang just waved a hand at him, eyes still glued to the TV screen so he could soak in all the YouTube drama. “Yeah, yeah. Hot guy lives here, so what?” 

“So then why have I never noticed him before? I mean it when I say that he’s hot. Like, I swear I know this guy from somewhere.”

“You’ve probably seen him on campus or something,” Yeosang said, tossing the spoon back at him.

“But I would remember him. He’s really, really hot, Sangie,” he whined. He really only got a raised brow in response. “I mean it.”

“That’s what you say about all of your potential mates, Wooyoung.” Sometimes Wooyoung really hated his roommate. This was one of those times. He was saved from having to come up with a retort by his phone buzzing on his thigh. He picked it up to see a message from an unknown number.

**Unknown:  
Hi cutie ;)**

Wooyoung had been so worked up and dead set on telling Yeosang about San that he’d completely forgotten he gave said man his number. He quickly added the number to his contacts.

**Wooyoung:  
Well hi  
Bold of you to call me cute**

**San ♥:  
Are you not cute?**

**Wooyoung:  
Nope  
I’m sexy**

**San ♥:  
Oh yes  
Very sexy flat on your ass with my poor coffee surrounding you**

**Wooyoung:  
I said I wasn’t cute  
Clumsy was never ruled out**

**San ♥:  
Cuteee**

**Wooyoung:  
I have a feeling you didn’t message me just to call me cute**

**San ♥:  
I didn’t  
I messaged you to ask if you had any classes tomorrow**

**Wooyoung:  
I have stats at noon  
I’m free after**

**San ♥:  
Then I, Choi San, would like to formally ask you, Sexy Cutie Wooyoung, if you would do me the honor of going out with me tomorrow night**

**Wooyoung:  
It depends on if there’s food involved**

**San ♥:  
Of course there is**

**Wooyoung:  
Then yes**

Wooyoung really was kidding himself. He would’ve gone out with San if there wasn’t food involved. Food was just a bonus.

❅

Wooyoung felt really pretty. That was the goal, of course, but he didn’t actually _feel_ pretty for a date often. 

His jeans hugged his thighs perfectly, the material light and not so tight it was obviously provocative, but tight enough to imply how he hoped the night would end. His makeup was mostly natural looking, just a little shimmer here and there, but he just felt so _pretty._

Yeosang had left for work an hour ago, so Wooyoung had the apartment to himself until San came around to pick him up. He made himself at home on the couch and switched on reruns of a drama he’d seen at least six times now.

Thirty minutes later and there was a knock at the door. Wooyoung was up and there in an instant, but he waited just a bit before opening the door. He couldn’t seem that desperate. 

And fuck, San looked so good with his hair pushed off his forehead and in his form fitting shirt. His waist was impossibly small, enough to make Wooyoung jealous. He was grateful to have his shoes on already. Taking more time than he needed to grab his wallet and keys might have made him go feral. 

The first thing Wooyoung noticed when he locked the door and stepped into the hallway was a pile of suitcases outside a door a little further down. He and San watched as a man brought out another bag then disappeared inside again. Wooyoung sighed. “Nobody that moves in that apartment ever stays.”

San hummed next to him, leading the way to the elevator. “I mean, would you stay in there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently a couple people died there.”

Wooyoung glanced back at the room while they waited for the elevator. “Really?” San nodded, and the elevator opened with a ding. He led Wooyoung into it with a hand on his waist. “I didn’t know that.”

“Hey,” San said. Wooyoung looked at him and was met with a smile. “Let's not talk about dead people. It’ll ruin the mood.”

Wooyoung really couldn’t deny that.

❅

San’s bedroom was really nice. It wasn’t, like, anything super special, but it was nice for a university student. He had those nice LED lights that everyone on TikTok had lining the ceiling, the desk was definitely neater than his own, even though it wasn’t that much better. His sheets looked new. Like, brand new. Never slept in before. 

Wooyoung’s tipsy brain was set on its mission now. He was in the bedroom, the next step was the bed itself. The door clicked shut softly, then the lights were on in a pretty shade of purple, and Wooyoung looked at San as he set the remote for the lights down on the desk. 

Liquid courage was coursing through him, and San looked so ethereal under the illumination of the lights, Wooyoung couldn’t help it. He closed the distance between them, then pulled San in for a kiss. It started off innocent enough, and San reciprocating only spurred him on further, pushed him to slip his tongue past the seam of San’s lips.

San’s hands tangled into his hair. The grip was enough to send Wooyoung spiraling long enough for San to take control, use the leverage he had to guide Wooyoung’s head back. And it was good. It was so good, better than any of his past endeavors had been. Wooyoung was growing desperate, he needed to have San’s hands on him again-

Again? Had San ever put his hands on him before?

Wooyoung pushed the invading thoughts away. His hands dipped for San’s belt, started blindly undoing the buckle. And then San was gone. “Hey,” he mumbled, and Wooyoung whined in response, doubling down on his efforts.

San’s hands wrapped around his, stopping them before he could rip the belt away. “Hey,” he repeated, firmer. “Wooyoung. Look at me.”

Wooyoung obeyed, giving his best pout. It seemed San was immune to his tricks. He just released Wooyoung’s hands and instead tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. Wooyoung leaned into the touch. “Let’s - let's hold off, okay? We’ve been drinking. It’s not a good idea to do this right now.”

Wooyoung whined again, but he released the belt. San pressed a final kiss to his pout, then he was tugging the abused belt off. He watched San step out of his pants, watched the taut muscles in his back move as he lifted his shirt over his head. And then he watched as he tugged on a pair of flannel pyjama pants, and then he was being handed a shirt from the closet. 

He must have still been pouting, because San kissed him again. And again. And again, until Wooyoung smiled and the pout disappeared. His hands found themselves resting against San’s warm chest. “Another time, okay?” Wooyoung sighed, but he nodded in agreement. 

His own apartment was just a few floors down, but if the shirt in his hand was any indication, he was staying the night. He peeled off his own clothes, set them aside, and engulfed himself in the shirt. It smelled like the same cologne he’d noticed San wearing earlier that night. Wooyoung made himself comfortable on San’s bed, watching him as he brushed a makeup wipe over his eyes over and over. 

Wooyoung’s own eyes slipped shut at some point, suddenly sleepy once his head hit the pillow. He jumped at the sensation of something cold on his eyelid. “Relax. I’m just taking off your makeup.” And he listened, relaxed just like he was told because he really liked the feeling he got in his chest when San took care of him. San’s hand moved away then the bed dipped next to him a moment later. Warmth engulfed him, along with an arm and a leg, and Wooyoung sighed contentedly. 

Kisses were placed all along his neck, so soft that he thought maybe San hadn’t been planning on taking him to bed that night in the first place. He thought that maybe San wanted to explore a little more before that, wanted to be something more before jumping into that.

And Wooyoung was fine with that.

❅

When Wooyoung woke up, the lights were off and the sun was bright. He stretched with a moan, muscles loosening up and joints popping. He sat up, looked over, and found San gone. He might have been offended if it hadn’t been for the headache he could feel behind his eyes, or if he hadn’t noticed singing coming from somewhere in the apartment.

Wooyoung padded around the apartment until he found the source. The bathroom door was cracked open, the shower running, and warmth was seeping through the crack and drawing him in. He poked his head past the door, spotted a little smudge of pink through the shower door, and invited himself in. 

He didn’t know what song San was singing, but he liked it. He wasn’t really paying attention to the lyrics themselves, but he liked the tune and he liked San’s voice. Wooyoung sat himself on the sink, ready to just listen to him sing, but San chose that moment to turn around. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack when he noticed Wooyoung, opened the glass door with a hand over his chest. “How’d you slip in here so quiet?” he whined.

Wooyoung shrugged. “Dancer.” 

San’s eyes quickly raked over his bare legs hanging off the edge of the counter, then back up to his face. “Did you want a shower?” Wooyoung really couldn’t say no to the promising warm water beckoning him. He stripped himself of his borrowed shirt and underwear, then stepped inside the shower with San.

He was content to just let the water pelt his neck for a while, but then San’s hands were in his hair, massaging in shampoo, and Wooyoung almost melted. He never thought he would spend the night with someone without getting laid, and then shower with that person, apparently also without sexual intent. 

It was weird. But it was a good weird. 

San’s hands stopped their movements, and Wooyoung just barely kept his protests at bay. “Are you upset with me for last night?” 

“Right now I’m upset that you stopped rubbing my head.”

His hands didn’t continue and this time he didn’t even try to stop his grunt of distress. “But are you upset that I stopped you?” 

“No. I’m not,” Wooyoung confessed, and San continued to massage his scalp. “It’s actually the first time someone’s done that.” His head was maneuvered under the stream of water and San’s hands continued their gentle ministrations as the suds disappeared down the drain. 

“I didn’t want it to seem like I was taking advantage of you.” The hands continued their path with conditioner. 

“I’m sober now.”

San huffed out a laugh, pushing Wooyoung’s head under the water again. “Yes, you are,” he gently pulled his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair to press him against his chest and whisper into his ear. “But now isn’t the time. When I fuck you, it’ll be somewhere nicer than a shower.”

The shivers that were sent down his spine spoke of a promise, but then San was reaching over and turning the shower off. The glass door was opened again and a towel was placed on Wooyoung’s head. He was moving on autopilot, watching San more than drying himself off. His back rippled with every movement, dipped into that unfair waist. San cast a glance over his shoulder at him, like he just knew Wooyoung was staring. His cheeks flushed at being caught. San laughed, then he stepped out of the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist. 

It took way too much coaxing, and definitely a lot of whining, but Wooyoung eventually followed him and they both dressed, and breakfast was the next thing on San’s mind. Nothing special, just eggs and fried rice, but Wooyoung appreciated it anyway. Nobody had ever taken the time to actually make him breakfast before. 

Going back down the few floors to his own apartment shouldn’t have been so difficult. He’d known San all of two days, there was no reason he was struggling so much. He literally lived in the same building, he could come back any time. 

But before he left, San did place a kiss over his bottom lip, right where one of his two beauty marks was, whispering a promise of seeing him again.

❅

Wooyoung was supposed to be studying for stats. But the more he thought about his night with San, the more he thought about the man they’d seen a few doors down who had indeed moved out. 

Had someone - or multiple people, according to San - really died in the building? On his floor? That was what he wanted to find out, and why he had dove deep into the internet trying to find any information he could on it. And what he found had him both intrigued and disturbed.

According to the article he’d found, the year he was born a couple had lived in the room. One of them had been in recovery from an undisclosed operation when he’d passed in his sleep, and his partner committed suicide in the room soon after. There were no names, no ages listed for the couple. What he discovered was what he got. 

Trying to find anything else he could, he found reports of a few other people who had known the couple. Three of them had been killed in a car accident, another two went missing on a flight that vanished, and another had been shot and killed for drug dealing. But that was everything. There was no other mention of the couple anywhere else. It was like they’d dropped off the world along with all their friends, like nobody left in the world cared about them.

Wooyoung went back to the article about them, trying to see if he missed anything. His hair was long enough to have an inky black curtain falling in his vision constantly, so he yanked it up into a quick ponytail. Yeosang chose that moment to walk into his room. He looked at the computer screen over his shoulder and frowned. “Why are you reading about random dead people to study for your stats exam?”

“They lived in that apartment down the hall nobody stays in. San told me about it,” he said, eyes still darting over the words on the screen.

“That’s still weird.”

Yeosang left the room again, and with a sigh, Wooyoung went back to studying, but he really just wanted to go look in that room. 

❅

**Wooyoung:  
Are you home?**

**San ♥:  
Maybe **

**Wooyoung:  
Can you come down here?**

Wooyoung watched the chat bubble appear then disappear, and when it didn’t come back he knew he’d won. San emerged from the elevator not even a minute later, tugging a beanie over his hair. It really wasn’t fair how a simple t-shirt and sweats looked like they came out of a Vogue magazine on him. On Wooyoung, it just looked like he was lazy as fuck. But thirsting over San wasn’t the point of calling him down.

“I got permission to check out that apartment.”

“What apartment?”

“The one where those people died.”

San sighed. It wasn’t the first time Wooyoung had brought up the couple in their conversations. San always listened when he did, but he could tell he was getting tired of it. “Wooyoung, chances are it looks exactly like our own apartments.”

“I know, but I just want to see.” Another, quieter sigh, pushed out of San’s nose. “And you want me to come with you.”

“Of course.”

San lifted his arms in a “lets go” gesture. “Lead the way, Princess Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung started towards the door just a little ways down the hall. He’d asked the building owner to just leave the door unlocked for him today, on the promise he would lock it back up when he was done. He turned the doorknob, and true to his word, the door opened. Wooyoung poked his head inside first.

And he found a completely normal looking apartment. Just like San said. He opened the door further, allowing San and himself to step fully inside, and then it hit him. That same weird sense of nostalgia that had come over him when he’d met San. Wooyoung looked at him and found an expression that said he felt that way, too. 

It really could have been just because the layout was exactly the same as literally every other apartment in the building. That was the most plausible explanation. But it just felt different.

Wooyoung ventured into the room further. He let his hands run over the back of the couch, the counters, the kitchen island. Every surface felt so familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. San was staring at the empty walls and shelves like he’d just seen a ghost as Wooyoung opened the door to the bedroom.

And then he froze in the doorway. 

There was nothing physically wrong with the room. Nothing at all, except for the bed completely stripped of its sheets and blankets. No, what had him so froze up was the feeling that had punched him in the gut the second he’d opened the door. An overwhelming sadness. A sadness that wasn’t his own. A sadness of having just lost a lover and being unable to continue on. 

Wooyoung looked over to the empty desk. It looked so much like it was missing something, something important that had completed that entire area of the room, and another wave of that sadness washed over him. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until San was suddenly next to him and wiping the tears away, making him jump at the sudden invasion. 

“Hey, I think that’s enough for one day, yeah?” Wooyoung nodded absentmindedly as San’s arm snaked around his waist to draw him away. San spared a single glance into the room before closing the door and leading Wooyoung out of the apartment. The door closed and locked behind them, but the sadness still lingered. 

San’s hands came to rest on his cheeks, thumbs gently swiping the lingering tears. “What’s wrong?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I don’t know. I just opened that door and then I felt really sad,” he shook his head again, trying to shake off the feeling that still had its claws sunk into him. San didn’t say anything, just led him over to his own apartment and paused outside the door.

Wooyoung opened the door, and then San turned to head to the elevator. “San?” He turned back around, face looking oh so hopeful. “Will you stay?” The hope spread into a bright smile. Wooyoung let him into his apartment, and the sadness finally released the hold it had on him.

❅

Yeosang emerged from his room later that night, hair mussed up from sleep. He looked over at Wooyoung curled up against San on the couch once, began heading to the bathroom, then looked over again. San hadn’t noticed him, but Wooyoung shot him a glare. Yeosang just shook his head and disappeared into the bathroom to take his shower before work.

Wooyoung settled back into the show they were watching. He was perfectly content to forget his roommate existed and disappear into the warm body beside him. And he did. At least until Yeosang returned, showered and dressed, sifting through the kitchen. This time he did catch San’s attention and Wooyoung couldn’t just ignore him this time.

“Breakfast’s in the fridge.”

Yeosang grunted in response. San moved away, and it took Wooyoung a moment to realize he was moving to leave. “Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“No, sit down. Yeosang’s leaving for work, isn’t he?” He fixed Yeosang with a stare, which was returned just as intensely. Yeosang’s eyes landed on San, still standing in front of the couch, then back to Wooyoung questioningly. 

“Yeah. I’ll be gone in a bit,” he said. “You guys can… do whatever.” 

San slowly sat back down, watching Yeosang go through the refrigerator and not looking away until he disappeared back into his room. “Did you say breakfast?”

“Yeah. Why?” 

“It’s nine in the evening.” 

Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s breakfast for him. He just woke up.” Yeosang came back one more time, this time to slip out the door and leave. 

“What does he do?”

Wooyoung really didn’t feel like talking about Yeosang, would much rather be doing other things. But he relented, if only to satisfy San. “He works in the hospital. In the psych ward with people who’ve attempted, y’know.” 

“That sounds like a pretty awful job to have.” 

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. But someone has to do it. Don’t know why he wants to, though.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

And this was what Wooyoung wanted. He wanted to get to know San, have San get to know him, so they could move along, maybe to something more than just occasionally going on dates. “I want to open my own dance studio. Maybe teach kids,” he smiled to himself, prompting a matching one from San. “What about you?”

San’s smile faded. He sighed, and Wooyoung sat up a little straighter. “Honestly, I don’t know. I feel kind of,” he paused, looking for the right words. “lost.” He put his head on San’s shoulder. “My dad wants me to take over his taekwondo studio back home, my mom wants me to try to become an idol, and all I want to do is take pictures.”

“I know how that feels,” Wooyoung said, turning his head to look up at San. “My dad wanted me to go into business. When I first came out, it was only to my mom, and she wanted me to do whatever would make me happy.” San pressed impossibly closer. “I guess I ended up compromising, but it was all my idea in the end.”

“So what are you saying I should do? Take pictures of taekwondo students while singing?” Wooyoung giggled at the joke, San’s little smile being his cue that it was okay. 

“No. I’m saying you should do what makes you happy, because if your parents really love you, they’ll support you anyway.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but it just feels wrong. They don’t even know I want to go into photography.”

“Then tell them.” San raised a brow at him. “Seriously. They won’t care if it makes you happy.”

“You know, you have really simple answers but they’re all right,” he smiled, and Wooyoung pressed a kiss to it, mostly on his teeth, but it was a kiss nonetheless and it made San laugh. An arm came around Wooyoung’s shoulders, making him settle back in. “Of course they’re right. I’m always right.”

San hummed and it was really a wonderful sound. They hadn’t addressed San’s singing in the shower, but now that Wooyoung knew his mother wanted him to be an idol, he guessed they didn’t really have to. 

Against his will, Wooyoung’s mind traveled back to the room down the hall. He recalled the way San had been so fixated on the walls and shelves. “Why were you looking at the walls so much in the room?”

“They looked wrong. Like something was missing.”

“I felt like that, too. About the desk in the bedroom.”

San huffed out a laugh. “Ever since I met you, everything’s felt so weird.”

The feeling was mutual.

❅

Wooyoung pulled himself out of San’s grasp, tongue dry and desperate for water. He ventured into the kitchen, took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with the tap. A glance at the clock on the oven told him it was well past five in the morning and definitely way too early to be awake. He gulped down the entire glass in one go and headed back to bed.

He climbed back in, snuggled back up against San, and made to go back to sleep. But San was cold. He was way too cold. San was always warm, no matter what time of year it was. Wooyoung reached over and turned the lamp on, then turned over to look at him. 

San’s lips were pale and a hand held over his face said he wasn’t breathing. Wooyoung shook his shoulder; maybe he just needed a jumpstart. But there was no response. “San?” He tried again, and there was no response again, and this time panic set in. He climbed on top of him, began the chest compressions he’d hoped he would never have to use. 

He connected his lips to San’s, breathed in, and the process repeated too many times for him to count. The panic eventually took over, his hands were shaking too much to continue and his vision was too blurry to even see what he was doing anymore. 

“No, no, no, please-”

And then Wooyoung opened his eyes again, the plea, the _scream_ , on his lips as he sat up. It took him a moment to register that he was in his own room, not in that apartment, and that the warmth that was suddenly wrapped around him was San. San, who had stayed the night, who was in his bed, who was still _alive._

“Hey. Hey, Wooyoung? Look at me. It’s okay, it was just a dream.”

Wooyoung followed directions, looked at San’s sleepy but alert face, at his pink lips. His breathing was coming in small little bursts, almost hyperventilating, and San pulled him against his chest. A hand in his hair, toying with the locks, paired with a soft hum of You Are My Sunshine had him calming down, slowly but surely.

San shifted them to lay down, never once letting up until Wooyoung told him it was okay. “It was that room. I saw-” he started, unprompted. What had he seen? Had he just been projecting a face he knew onto the situation he knew very vaguely, or had he actually seen the face of one of the people who had been taking up so many of his thoughts? Someone who looked extraordinarily like the San before him, with dark hair and a turquoise streak in the front. 

“Wooyoung, I think you need to step away from that for a while,” San’s voice was soft, but scolding. One of his thumbs was gently stroking over Wooyoung’s cheek, right over the beauty mark under his eye. “You - this is scaring me now, okay? Forget about trying to find out what happened. It’s upsetting you more than it should be.” 

Wooyoung nodded in agreement. He was done trying to actively seek it out. He’d seen enough. He watched San close his eyes, ready to fall back into sweet sleep. He didn’t know where this was coming from. He just knew he needed to ask before he lost the courage to. “San?” 

His eyes opened again. “Will you go out with me?” 

“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

“No, like. Will you be my boyfriend?” 

San smiled sleepily at him, tugging Wooyoung against his chest to hold him tightly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Wooyoung fell back asleep with butterflies fluttering in his chest and stomach.


	2. Don't Worry, I'll Be There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When San emerged from the shower that night, rubbing a towel through his hair, Wooyoung made his thoughts known. “They seem nice.”
> 
> San shrugged. “They’re okay,” he said, but his smile told him otherwise. He sat down next to Wooyoung, allowing him to promptly seat himself in his lap. He took San’s face into his hands, placed a small kiss to his lips, reveling in the way San chased after him. “You’re just mad because they like me better since I’m cuter.”
> 
> “I thought you weren’t cute.”
> 
> “Did I say that?”
> 
> “You did,” San nodded. “We’ve had extensive conversations about it.”

**San ♥:  
Heyyyy wooyounggg 🥺**

**Wooyoung:  
Oh no**

**San ♥:  
Nooooo don’t be like that  
It’s not bad I promise**

**Wooyoung:  
It better not be**

**San ♥:  
So me and a couple friends all pitched in to rent a beach house for part of the break  
And it turns out there’s two more beds than we thought there were**

**Wooyoung:  
I’m not paying for a bed**

**San ♥:  
No no no  
I was wondering if you wanted to come  
Yeosang too**

Wooyoung looked up from his phone and across the room at Yeosang. “Oh no. That look is never good.”

“What?” He hadn’t even realized he was making a face. “I was just about to ask if you wanted to go to a beach house with San for a while.”

“How long?”

Wooyoung asked San the question and had a reply within a second. “From July until classes start again.”

“Wooyoung, I can’t take that long off work.”

“Sure you can.”

“No. I can’t. Unlike you, I work in a functional place.”

“I work in a functional place! Lots of people need help with butt stuff.”

Yeosang sighed, fixing him with a deadly look. “A hospital is a lot different than a sex shop. I can’t come.”

Wooyoung pouted, bottom lip stuck out as far as it could go without being plain ugly instead of cute. “Will you at least come for the first day and meet San’s friends?”

“Fine. One day. That’s it.”

**Wooyoung:  
I can come  
Yeosang’s not taking off work though**

**San ♥:  
I figured but I thought I would ask**

**Wooyoung:  
You know I won’t use that bed, right?**

**San ♥:  
I know**

❅

When San had said a few friends, Wooyoung had been expecting one or two. He wasn’t expecting five. And Yeosang was about to put his car in reverse and leave without even stepping out of it if the look on his face in the rearview mirror was anything to go by. 

Wooyoung hopped out of the passenger seat of San’s car and bolted over, just barely catching him with his hand on the gearshift. He tapped on the window until Yeosang relented and rolled it down. “You promised you would come meet them.” 

“I said I would come meet a few people. Not,” his eyes scanned over the cars parked outside the house. “Five.” 

“You promised, Sangie. You work with people you don’t know every day, how much different is - and you’re not even listening to me.” Yeosang had, in fact, become distracted. His eyes weren’t on Wooyoung anymore and his hand had gone slack on the gearshift. Wooyoung followed his gaze and landed on a man who must have been god’s favorite. 

His hair was dyed an ashy silver, skin tanned and clear. His nose was ideal, lips plump, and when he smiled, he showed off pearly white and perfectly straight teeth. Wooyoung heard the click of the gearshift moving and then doors unlocked. Yeosang stepped out, any of his earlier reluctance forgotten. “Maybe I’ll stay for a little while.”

Wooyoung shook his head as he headed back to San’s car to help unload their bags. Apparently pretty boys were the cure to having social anxiety. Yeosang stuck close to him until they went inside, where he ventured off to find the pretty boy. San led him into what was going to be their room to drop off their bags. There were two beds, but they really wouldn’t be using the second on. Wooyoung always ended up sharing a bed with San when they spent time together. 

Before Wooyoung could wander off to explore the house, San tugged him in by the waist and connected their lips. San’s kisses always had him melting, soft and pliant in his arms. Just when Wooyoung thought things were getting heated, when he thought that maybe San would finally fuck him the way he deserved, there was a knock at the door and a startled sound.

They parted, and both looked to the door to find the pretty boy Yeosang had been enamored by. “Well, I was coming to meet Wooyoung, but you’re busy, so.” He nodded to himself, then added as a second thought, “I’m Seonghwa.” He disappeared, allowing Wooyoung to look back at San with a sly smile. 

“Do you talk about me with your friends, then?”

San looked flustered, his cheeks tinged pink. He puffed out a breath. “No. Definitely not.” His expression and the way he’d busied himself with sifting through his bag said otherwise, and Wooyoung knew he’d won this one. He took one of San’s busy hands and tugged, ready to lead him out again and meet all the friends San hadn’t talked about him with. 

Wooyoung almost ran into Yeosang in the hallway. He fixed his roommate with a glare. “You abandoned me for dick.”

“It’s not even single dick, though. But both dicks are interested, so there is that.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Yeosang pointed accusingly at San. “Thinking with your dick landed you that. If it gets me _two_ of those, then I win.”

San tilted his head, not unlike a dog. “I’m a ‘that’?” 

Wooyoung cooed and gave him one of the head pats he loved so much. “It’s okay, baby. You’re my that.”

“Okay,” Yeosang interrupted, drawing out the vowels. “I got a phone number and you got your bags, so I’m done.” He gave Wooyoung a quick hug and San a wave. “Call me if you need something.”

“I will.”

Wooyoung watched Yeosang until he disappeared down the driveway, then he pulled on the hand his was still linked to, leading San to the kitchen to finally meet his friends.

❅

Wooyoung liked San’s friends. They made him feel included, like he’d always been a part of their little group. Mingi and Yunho, who were so attached at the hip they might as well have been together, made him laugh so hard he cried. Hongjoong and Seonghwa, Yeosang’s two new dicks, were really only there to supervise when things got too out of hand. And Jongho. Oh, poor, poor Jongho. He looked about ready to pass out when Wooyoung got started on him, and once he started showering him with affection he practically ran away. 

When San emerged from the shower that night, rubbing a towel through his hair, Wooyoung made his thoughts known. “They seem nice.”

San shrugged. “They’re okay,” he said, but his smile told him otherwise. He sat down next to Wooyoung, allowing him to promptly seat himself in his lap. He took San’s face into his hands, placed a small kiss to his lips, reveling in the way San chased after him. “You’re just mad because they like me better since I’m cuter.”

“I thought you weren’t cute.”

“Did I say that?”

“You did,” San nodded. “We’ve had extensive conversations about it.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” His laugh was cut off by San, quickly turning it into a moan when his lips attached to the prominent vein in his neck. He could feel the smile against his skin, warm and soft, and very much already driving him up the walls. Wooyoung’s hands fell from San’s face, to his bare shoulders, and ended up rested on his chest.

Then before he knew it, San was pulling back and leaving him high and dry. He whined and it was San’s turn to laugh. “No, want you to fuck me.”

“Hm,” San hummed. “No, I don’t think so. Walls are too thin. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you.” 

Wooyoung looked away stubbornly. San flipped them over so Wooyoung was laid on his back and he was hovering over him. Lo and behold, as if on cue, a soft moan sounded out from somewhere in the house. Wooyoung could only guess who it was, but he was leaning towards Hongjoong. He looked back to San, who looked very triumphant. “My point has been made.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Wooyoung pouted. San clambered off him, laying down beside him. He was pulled against the bare skin of his chest, warmth bleeding through the single layer separating them. Wooyoung’s fingers absentmindedly traced over the dips and curves of San’s torso. “I’ll fuck you before the summer’s over. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

San laughed at him again, placed a kiss to the top of his head, then tucked himself under the blanket. “Tell you what. Lets both try something new this summer. Anything we’ve never done before.” 

“Anything?” 

“Anything.” 

“Okay.” Wooyoung turned over and let San’s arm fall over his waist. He didn’t really care about trying something new, as long as San fucked him. Maybe he could try that dalgona coffee he’d been hearing about. San said nothing else, already having fallen asleep with ease. 

❅

And true to his word, Wooyoung held San to his promise. A week passed with no further moves from him, and Wooyoung was restless to the point of making his own moves. Every time, he would be shot down. The shower, the bed, the wall, even the kitchen counter. San said no to all of them. 

Wooyoung really started to think San only said it to placate him.

Until San excused himself from dinner one night, pulling Wooyoung along. He led him outside, onto the sandy beach and plopped himself down right on the edge of the water, patting the spot next to him for Wooyoung to join him. 

Wooyoung sat beside him, resting his head against San’s shoulder. “It’s pretty tonight,” San mused. He hummed in agreement. The moon was providing enough light to fully illuminate San’s face, the light reflecting off the water. There was a slight breeze, enough to chill Wooyoung when it blew through but not enough to completely block out the heat of summer. 

San’s hand found it’s way into Wooyoung’s hair, fingers twisting and twirling the strands. It was then that Wooyoung realized they were alone. There was nobody on the beach, everyone else was still in the house. Upon his realization, he looked to San, who gave him a knowing look. 

Wooyoung was flipped over onto his back in an instant, lips firmly attached to the expanse of his throat and hands gripping his hips tightly. He had to laugh to himself because San wouldn’t fuck him in his bed, or Wooyoung’s bed, or their shared bed here, or against the wall or in the shower, but he would fuck him on a public beach in the middle of the night.

Fingers slipped under the waistband of his pants and his train of thought was cut off, and he had a feeling it would remain that way for a while.

❅

It was a night about a week into this new arrangement that Wooyoung felt it. He had just been unconsciously running his fingers over the material of San’s shorts when it bunched up and his fingers slipped onto his bare thigh. It was subtle, but definitely there. Lifted ridges all along San’s upper thigh. At first he thought it was just his half asleep brain tricking him, but no, they were definitely real. 

He lifted his head from where it was resting against the pillow to look at San, who was looking peaceful. His eyes opened when he noticed Wooyoung was sat up now, hand still firmly placed against his thigh. “What’s wrong?” San’s satoori crept through his voice in his own state of sleepiness. Wooyoung just kept rubbing his hand up and down the ridges, and he soon watched San’s face twist up in an expression he didn’t know how to describe. 

His hand came down to grasp Wooyoung’s and pull it away, back over the blanket. It was silent in the room, the only sound being the late night traffic outside. Finally, San spoke up. “I haven’t been very kind to myself.”

And now Wooyoung understood. He understood what Yeosang had been talking about, why he, and all of San’s friends, were still so concerned for him. “Why?” His voice sounded small to his own ears. 

San looked like he was thinking about how to answer that in a way that would satisfy Wooyoung. He didn’t want to be satisfied, he wanted to know what was going through San’s head. “Tell me the truth.” 

San heaved out a heavy sigh before speaking again. “After you left, I felt…” He stopped, looking at Wooyoung like he didn’t want to tell him. Like Wooyoung wouldn’t like this answer, but it was the one he wanted, so he nodded in encouragement. “I felt used. Like you only ever wanted me to explore yourself, and when you decided it wasn’t right, you could just leave and forget I existed. And I - I hated you so much for that, but I hated myself more. I hated that I let myself believe you might want to stay, that you might come back. I hated that I-”

San stopped himself, shaking his head with a spiteful smile spread across his lips. “I would look in the mirror and see someone so pathetic and ugly that I couldn’t stand it. I would feel awful and do… that, and then I would feel awful for doing it and the cycle would go on and on.”

Wooyoung began to wonder how true San’s words had been the morning after he showed up. He’d said that it had been a long time since he’d been upset with Wooyoung, but this didn’t sound like the case. “How long has it been since you…?”

“A while. Almost nine months.”

“You don’t need to tell me anymore,” Wooyoung said, moving to turn over and have his back to San. He felt the bed shift as San moved as well. The silence settled again and gave Wooyoung the chance to mull over what he was just told. He had never realized he meant so much to San, that he took so much pleasure and enjoyment out of the arrangement they had agreed on. He should have. He had his moments, but he was by no means stupid. He _knew_ that he was San’s only friend, he _knew_ San was very dependent on him at the time, and he _knew_ that San was attracted to him at the least, and that he was lovesick at the most. 

And he’d left anyway. Left because he couldn’t handle his own truth, and lived in denial of it for two years, while San was still here, suffering and alone in this very apartment where they had so many memories. 

San’s voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked over his shoulder to find the other man on his back, staring up at the ceiling that looked like stained glass from the fairy lights tangled around the posts of the bed. “Sometimes I still look in the mirror and feel like that. It can be so hard not to resort back to that and go talk to someone instead.”

Wooyoung turned back over to face him and tucked his arm under his head. “You shouldn’t have to feel like that.” San turned his head to look at him. He gave him a sad smile, as if he read Wooyoung’s mind and knew exactly what he was thinking. “It isn’t your fault, Wooyoung. It never was. I blamed you for a long time, but it was never your fault.”

San’s voice began to fade away, and then Wooyoung opened his eyes to see their shared room at the beach house once again. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. Titanic was still playing on San’s computer, but now Wooyoung was confused because the last thing he remembered was Rose’s fiance tossing a table, and now she was spitting in his face and running off somewhere into the ship. San had been scandalized when he admitted he’d never seen it before, and now he had to ask what he’d missed. 

“What’s happening?”

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Just tell me what I missed.”

“Rose and Jack fucked, Cal framed Jack for stealing the necklace and got him arrested, and now she’s trying to find him while the ship’s sinking.” Wooyoung hummed his thanks, but his mind was elsewhere now. 

It hadn’t been the first time he’d had dreams of conversations with San that they’d never had before. It’s happened multiple times now. He had no explanation for it besides an overactive imagination, but even that didn’t feel like the right answer. This time, though, it felt different. It felt _wrong_ to be dreaming about a conversation like that, especially involving San.

“Have you ever,” he sighed, trying to find a way to phrase this delicately. San, sensing the tone of his question, reached over him and paused the movie. “Have you ever hurt yourself? On purpose?”

Instead of answering his question, San asked, “What makes you ask?” 

“Just a really weird dream.”

“No. I haven’t. It’s okay, just a dream.”

Wooyoung let himself be smothered in San’s affection, kisses and caresses. It relaxed him, made him settle back against San and be deemed fit to continue the movie. It wasn’t long before he voiced another thought.

“It felt so real. It was just like that other dream I had, back home.”

San’s chin hooked over the top of his head. “The one that woke you up screaming?” Wooyoung nodded. “Just how many dreams like this have you had?”

“A lot,” he answered, honestly. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, San.”

“I know,” San sighed. “I know. I just don’t really understand it. What goes on in them?”

“They’re always conversations I’ve had with you, but we’ve never had them. And it’s always you. You, but not you. Except the first one. That one was…different.”

“And what about that one?”

Wooyoung’s mind provided him with the image of San lying in that bed in the abandoned apartment back home, cold and lifeless. Dead. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

San’s thumb drew little patterns into his wrist. His bare pelvis was pressed against the base of his spine, and it was a comforting presence rather than erotic. His soft voice mumbled reassurance against his hair. “They’re just dreams, Wooyoung. They can’t hurt you. Don’t forget that.”

Wooyoung nodded, more to himself than in response to San, and he tried to remind himself that they were, in fact, just dreams. It still didn’t feel like the right answer, though.

❅

San’s fingers traced over the dips in his knee gently, water dripping and trailing back down into the bath. His other hand was gently massaging Wooyoung’s shoulder, making him tilt his head back and fall against his chest. 

Wooyoung loved moments like this. Being pampered by San, showered in what he could only assume was the utmost love and affection. It felt incredible, especially in comparison to the rough treatment and harsh words from not even an hour ago, but that was a different kind of bliss.

He reached back and tangled his fingers into San’s hair, angled his head for a kiss. He could feel San’s smile against him. It was nothing more than a press of the lips but San sighed into it, hands trailing from their places to rest on Wooyoung’s waist. When he pulled away, San had an unreadable expression on his face. Wooyoung worried that he’d done something to upset him. “What’s wrong?”

San shook his head but the expression didn’t fade away. “Nothing. I just - I think I love you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung froze, and now it was San’s turn to look afraid that he’d gone too far. Thoughts were coursing through his brain but the only one that stuck was that San loved him. San loved him, and he was almost positive he loved San as well. 

“Wooyoung?” 

“I love you, too.”

He had to say it before he lost the nerve. Before San began to think maybe their relationship would be ending after his confession. Every emotion that existed in the world crossed over San’s face, maybe even some that had no name and didn’t exist yet. His smile spread wide, hands clambering to make purchase on Wooyoung’s neck as he moved around, sloshing water everywhere but he didn’t care because he was in San’s lap and San was kissing him and San _loved_ him. 

Wooyoung wasn’t sure when he started laughing, but it was turning his kisses sloppy and eventually became a sob, causing San to pull away and cast a little smile his way.

“Why are you crying?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He didn’t know. He wasn’t the type of person to really cry over things. Even The Notebook hadn’t made him cry before, but a simple “I love you” falling from San’s lips had.

San cooed and wiped away his stray tears before pressing a kiss over the beauty mark under his eye. “Don’t cry, okay? You’re supposed to be happy.” Wooyoung nodded his agreement before placing his head firmly on San’s chest.

The bath was running cold now, but he didn’t care. He had all the warmth he needed right there.

❅

The sun was beating down on them unrelentingly as Wooyoung was splayed out on the boat deck, and San was leaning over the rails trying to get pictures of fish as they swam by. Everyone else was either bothering the captain or trying to sunbathe like he was. He pulled up his sunglasses to stare up at San, looking unfairly hot in his swim trunks and tank top. 

“How did you guys manage to pay for all this?” 

San leaned over further to see something that had caught his interest. “A lot of saving. It’s been, like, two years of saving up now.” 

Wooyoung’s brows shot up momentarily, then he dragged his sunglasses back down. “Anything interesting down there yet?” 

“Mm, some fish, some coral, some more fish. Oh, look, a crab.” He laughed at San’s mock excitement, turning over so the sun would go after his back instead. 

“That bad?” 

“You know, I wish a shark would come by. Something interesting.” Wooyoung lifted his head, looking back up at his boyfriend. “What?” 

“You say that until a shark comes by and steals your camera because it thinks it's a seal.”

San put a little bit of thought into that before turning to face him and sitting down on the deck, camera lifted towards him. He heard the click of the shutter and realized it had caught his unflattering expression of shock. 

“What was that for?”

San shrugged. “I have to start my portfolio somewhere. I think you might be a pretty good start.”

Wooyoung pulled his sunglasses to the top of his head, staring at him incredulously. “So, did you talk to your parents?”

The camera lowered, showing off the pretty tanned sheen of San’s face. “Yeah.” 

“How’d it go?” 

“Well, kinda like you said it would. They understood that it was what I want, so they decided to support me anyway.”

“I told you I’m always right.” San’s smile brightened up and he lifted the camera again.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re always right. Now look pretty for me, model of the day.”

Wooyoung pulled his sunglasses back down and flipped onto his back again, posing overdramatically. San took the picture anyway and Wooyoung laughed, then the shutter clicked again and captured a moment that was much more real. He crawled over the small distance between them to look. San turned the camera around to let him see the display, all three of them. He liked the shocked one the least, because he honestly just looked stupid. 

The one of him laughing was his favorite. It was like he thought. A real moment looked better than anything he could have faked. 

“That one. That one can be the cover.”

“Yeah? You think you’re worthy of the cover?”

Wooyoung smiled, sly, and leaned in to press kisses to San’s lips. “I know I’m worthy of the cover,” he whispered between pecks. 

“Ah, hyung, they’re doing it again!” Jongho screeched, apparently having been walking by during their little moment, making them both turn their heads. He zoomed away before anyone could say anything else, and they looked back to each other. Wooyoung placed one more kiss to San’s smile before moving back over to his sunbathing spot.

❅

Wooyoung really hated that his lips constantly got dry. He’d gone through a million tubes of chapstick, yet his lips remained chapped and dry, and his mouth and throat paid the price for it, especially when he was sleeping. 

He wrenched himself out of San’s grasp, tight even when he was drifting around in dreamland, and clambered out of bed. He was rounding the corner to the kitchen when he noticed a bright light was on, which wasn’t normal when you consider it was just after three in the morning. 

He poked his head around the corner and found Hongjoong, bleary eyed and laptop open, headphones positioned nicely on his ears. Seonghwa was mostly asleep next to him, leaned uncomfortably on the counter, and neither of them noticed he was there until he passed by. Hongjoong waved and went back to whatever he was doing before he could even see if Wooyoung responded. 

Wooyoung pulled the refrigerator open and snatched up one of the copious bottles of water stored inside, downing half of it in one go. He was planning on taking the rest back to his and San’s room, but then he noticed the headphones had slipped down to wrap around Hongjoong’s neck and Seonghwa was sitting up, looking much more conscious. They were both staring at him and he took that as his cue to sit down at the counter across from them.

“I didn’t do it,” Wooyoung immediately confessed. The two of them exchanged a look, silently having a conversation before looking back at him, and Wooyoung could only think, _oh fuck._

“We’ve been wanting to ask you about Yeosang,” Seonghwa began, and the tension in his shoulders released at the realization that he wasn’t in trouble. “Is he serious? About being interested?” 

“I think so? He honestly might just be looking to get dicked down, but I think you guys would be good for him.”

They both nodded, horrifyingly in sync with one another. “So don’t get hopes up, but definitely look forward to a fun night. Got it,” Hongjoong said, pulling his headphones back up. Seonghwa laid his head back on the counter, and Wooyoung took that as his cue that he could go back to bed. He was almost back around the corner when Hongjoong called out to him. “Wooyoung?” 

He turned his head back around. “You’re really good for San. Keep it up. He’s really happy right now.”

Wooyoung’s brows drew together in curiosity. “Was he not happy before?”

“No, he was. But he’s definitely a lot happier now. He was really stressed before, about a lot, and I guess you just came through and helped ease it up,” Seonghwa’s head had lifted again and he was nodding his agreement. “Like the school thing. He never would’ve told his parents the truth if you hadn’t suggested it.”

He stared at them, a little doubtful that he had _that_ much influence on San. Nonetheless, a little bit of pride swelled in his chest at the looks they were giving him, like proud parents looking at their son’s shiny new lover. He guessed that was basically what it was. 

Not sure how to respond, Wooyoung waved and finally snuck back off to bed. San had turned over to hug a pillow at some point, making him scoff a little at the poor replacement for him. He tugged the pillow away and San whined sleepily, but he quieted down when Wooyoung snaked back into his spot. 

Getting San to quiet down was hard enough on its own, so the little bit of pride bubbled back up to the surface at the ease he had with it. 

❅

Wooyoung had almost forgotten about his promise to try something new over the summer. He had never gotten around to that dalgona coffee. It had completely slipped his mind until he heard the click of a shutter midway through riding out an orgasm, splayed out on the bed. San had already stilled, riding out his own bliss, and Wooyoung thought some payback for cutting his short was in order. 

He moved his leg from where it was rested over San’s shoulder and delivered a kick to the side of his head. San swatted it away, eyes focused on his camera now. He kicked his head again, this time hard enough to draw out a hiss. “Stop kicking my ear.”

“Stop interrupting my orgasms.” 

San slipped out of Wooyoung, tied off the used condom, tossed it in the trash, then laid down on his stomach, camera display still pulled up in front of his face. Wooyoung huffed and climbed on top of him, ignoring his own drying release on his stomach, and now pressing against the small of San’s back. He peeked over his shoulder at the display, finding an absolutely filthy photo of himself. 

“Why are you taking pictures of me when I’m trying to get a good fuck in before we go surfing?” he whined. San held the camera out further, like he thought Wooyoung was curious about it just as much as he was. 

“I’m trying something new. Like we promised.” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Wooyoung really hoped that had been convincing enough, but it seemed San saw right through him. He looked over his shoulder and met Wooyoung’s gaze the best he could from the awkward angle.

“You forgot.”

“I didn’t forget. I just got distracted by other things,” he defended. San didn’t look satisfied with that answer, either. 

“Sure.” He set his camera aside, the display turned off. “Since good fucks seem to be the only thing on your mind, why don’t you top me tonight?” 

Wooyoung’s brain short circuited. He didn’t think he heard correctly, or at least he didn’t want to think he had. He resorted to the one thing he knew how to do when he didn’t want to answer something that had him stumped. “Pardon?”

“Top me tonight.”

He waited one, two, three beats before answering again. “Pardon?” 

“Stop that. You heard me.” 

Wooyoung rolled off San’s back and stared up at the ceiling. He caught San turning onto his side in his peripheral. “You’ve never topped before.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to say it.” He turned his head to look at San, pout clear on his face. “It’ll be fine. Come on, just tonight. If you don’t like it, you never have to try again.” San countered with his own pout. 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

He had to look away. “No.” 

San leaned in closer, pressing his nose right up against Wooyoung’s hairline. “Try something new.” Wooyoung swatted at him until he backed off, giggling to himself. He was already up and off the bed, taking a wet wipe to his back to clean up the mess Wooyoung had left there. 

He really shouldn’t say no. The offer was fair enough. Try it once, get the trying something new part of the summer done, and never have to do it again if he really didn’t like it that much (which, he knew he wouldn’t. He was a pillow princess and liked it that way. But he couldn’t say the idea wasn’t tempting, especially with San practically parading his little ass around the room). 

“Fine. I'll top tonight.”

San was tugging on his wetsuit, and Wooyoung remembered, _right. They were supposed to be joining everyone else to go surfing._ San looked very satisfied with himself, though. 

He really wished he’d just gotten the dalgona coffee the day after they’d agreed to try something new.

❅

The day passed normally. Too normally. 

Wooyoung had expected to be put on edge all day. San was the type of person who, when something came to his mind, he never let you forget that it was on his mind. But he made no more mention of the night to come throughout the day, and it left Wooyoung on edge for a different reason. He was on edge because he didn’t know what to expect anymore. 

San excused himself from dinner early, saying he wanted to go take a shower. Wooyoung couldn’t blame him. They were all coated in a layer of sand after being out on the beach all day, and he understood that San probably wanted to get sand out of places sand should never be. 

But he didn’t come back. Wooyoung expected him to shower, then return to dinner. He’d heard the shower shut off, then the sound of their bedroom door closing. It was mostly quiet, like it always was when they ate delicious food, but even the others were starting to catch on to San’s prolonged absence. 

“Where’d San go?” Mingi asked into the dining room. Yunho and Jongho looked to Wooyoung, like he knew the answer. Their attention eventually drew everyone else’s and he sighed, then pushed his chair back and stood up. 

“I’ll go see what he’s doing.” 

He padded away down the hall to their door. He didn’t knock, just opened the door and stuck his head inside. The sight he was met with had him frozen in the doorway. 

San was splayed out on one of the beds, weight supported on his knees and an arm. His other hand was reached back in a way that had to be uncomfortable, two fingers deep in his hole. His wet hair was sticking to his forehead, the rest of his face pressed into the pillow to muffle himself, and Wooyoung cursed the way his dick twitched in interest. 

When he regained control of his body, he stepped inside the room and pulled the door shut behind himself with a quiet click. San turned his head at the noise, his hooded eyes landed on Wooyoung, and he smiled invitingly as he pressed a third finger into himself. Wooyoung approached the bed in a daze, crawled up behind San, and watched him pump his fingers, stretching himself out.

It crossed his mind that maybe San had planned this, that he had known he would have to draw Wooyoung in in order to peak his interest. Consider his interest peaked. His fingers danced over San’s stretched rim, the tip of one pressing lightly against the resistance beside San’s own, making him cry out completely unabashed. 

“Fuck, look at you, Sannie,” he mumbled, falling into a roll he didn’t even know he could fall into. “You really couldn’t wait for me?”

San shook his head, nose rubbing against the fabric of the pillow. “No, wanted to be ready for you,” he slurred, satoori thick. Wooyoung coaxed his hand away just to replace it with his own. Three fingers slipped in easily, excess lube dripping from San’s taint, down his balls, onto the sheets. 

“Wooyoung, please,” San begged, and he could get used to that. He could get used to not being the one doing the begging, to hearing San sound so desperate and wrecked already. 

His fingers drew back and he tugged his sweats and briefs off in one go, kicking them off the bed and somewhere to the side. After sifting through the bedside table for a condom and slipping it on, he picked up the lube from where it lay abandoned next to San’s head, poured some into his hand to slick up his embarrassingly hard cock from just watching, but San obviously didn’t care. He just wanted to be fucked into the bed, and he wouldn’t deny him any longer.

Wooyoung leaned forward, nipped at San’s earlobe, and aligned himself, slowly pressing inside of him. San backed up into it, choking on breathless moans as he pushed further into that tight heat. San gasped as Wooyoung rolled his hips before pulling out, and slamming back in. Wooyoung straightened his back, tilted his head back and groaned. The skin of San’s ass felt almost cool in comparison with his own hot thighs as he set a steady rhythm.

San’s own thighs trembled as he thrusted slower, deeper, steadier, and San grew louder with it.

“Shit,” Wooyoung groaned, “You - Feels so perfect, baby.”

San choked on a moan. Wooyoung pressed his palm against the small of his back, and let his other hand tangle into his hair, pulling and tugging and balling it in his fist as he thrust deep, rolled his hips, making San sob. Wooyoung lifted his palm, and let it hit against the soft skin of San’s ass, and his thighs trembled at the sensation.

“Fuck,” San moaned, “Fuck, yes- ”

Wooyoung licked his lips and grinned. There was something incredibly empowering about having San so willing and pliant underneath him, melting into putty at his touch. Wooyoung slapped his ass once more before cupping the tender and red flesh. He massaged it, and spread San’s cheeks apart a little more before pulling out almost completely, only to thrust back in in one fluid, strong motion. San fell apart at the seams; it must have been the perfect angle.

“Shit, baby,” Wooyoung groaned. He tightened his grip on San’s hair, and his thrusts became more erratic; he wouldn’t last much longer. It was all too much since this was San; San, the alluring, mysterious, gorgeous boy who put up with Wooyoung like he was born to do it - this swirling vortex of sweetness and seduction - and kissed like the son of Aphrodite.

“Harder,” San slurred, “Fuck me harder, please.”

The bed rattled as Wooyoung thrusted faster. He slapped San’s ass once more - hard and fast claps - and San lost it; moans and gasps and pants filled the room. San’s eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth hung open, and for one moment, Wooyoung felt himself shatter as San simply gasped, “Yes, yes - Wooyoung,” before shuddering from head to toe. He’d come untouched, and all because of Wooyoung. The thought alone was enough for Wooyoung to grip San with bruising force and thrust deep into him before coming too.

He collapsed onto San, his open-mouth fanning hot breaths over the space between San’s shoulder-blades.

“Oh, my _God,”_ San panted underneath him. “Where the hell have you been hiding that all this time?”

Wooyoung laughed breathlessly, forcing himself up to pull out of San, making him hiss, then tie off and toss out the used condom. He fell onto the bed beside him. “I’m asking myself that, too.” 

San fell over on his side, limbs spent, staring at him in his blissed out state. After a few minutes of coming down, he asked, “So, did you absolutely hate it like you thought?” Wooyoung could tell just by the smile on his face that San already knew the answer. Still, he huffed indignantly. He wasn’t a sore loser. Not at all. He just didn’t like being proved wrong. 

“Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be.” 

San giggled at him before turning over to his other side, staring longingly at the other, much cleaner bed. Wooyoung pushed himself off the mattress and crossed over to the other side to pull San up. His knees buckled as soon as his feet hit the floor, but Wooyoung was right there to catch him and help him over to the second bed. 

They collapsed together in a heap, limbs tangling together in some form of cuddling. San was already drifting off to sleep before Wooyoung even had the blanket pulled over them, a small smile lingering on his sharp features. A smile pulled at his own lips as he pressed a kiss to each of the three beauty marks on his face - two on his cheek and one above his eye, forming a little triangle - before settling back down for bed himself.

Maybe he didn’t need that dalgona coffee after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to stream ATEEZ's MV on the KQ YouTube channel March 1!
> 
> Edits will be on Fridays around 5pm EST!
> 
> As always, thank you for tuning in and I look forward to your continued support!!


	3. We Can Touch Utopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t really like the idea of bringing Wooyoung to see someone who was so obviously a nutcase, but he couldn’t say that out loud or deny her, considering he was already in enough trouble with her. “Of course.”
> 
> The professor made a satisfied sound and made no other effort to add to the conversation. San took that as his cue to leave and slowly rose from his seat. At the door, he turned back into her office. “I’m - I won’t be expelled for the photo, will I?”
> 
> “We’ll keep it between us this time.”

**San ♥:  
I'm so sorry**

Summer had just ended. They’d arrived home not even two hours ago, and Wooyoung was shocked to find such a message popping up on his phone.

**Wooyoung:  
What for?**

**San ♥:  
I submitted my portfolio**

**Wooyoung:  
Okay?  
Why are you sorry for that?**

The chat bubble appeared and disappeared. Before it could appear again, Wooyoung was already typing back.

**Wooyoung:  
Choi San what did you do**

**San ♥:  
I submitted everything on my camera**

Wooyoung couldn’t begin to understand why that was a bad thing at first. San had worked hard all summer in order to get this portfolio set for submission. Then it hit him. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

**Wooyoung:  
San**

No response.

**Wooyoung:  
San you deleted that picture right?**

✓Read 9:47 AM

**Wooyoung:  
I’m coming up there**

He heard his phone chime from where he’d tossed it on his couch, probably San desperately trying to convince him not to come up to his apartment and murder him. He didn’t bother with waiting for the elevator, opting for the stairs instead. He knew exactly where the spare key was, plucked it out of the ugly pot holding a fake plant beside San’s door, and turned it in the doorknob. When he pushed open the door, he wasn’t really surprised to find it blocked by a weight. 

“Let me in.” 

“Don’t kill me,” came San’s voice from beyond the door, apparently right on the other side of the door. 

“San, let me in right now.” He pushed against the door again. Halfway through, the weight moved and it flung open with the force he was putting on the wood. He was met with San, on the floor - apparently being the weight that had kept the door from opening - and looking about ready to cry. 

“Where’s your computer?” San pointed halfheartedly at the coffee table. 

Wooyoung walked the little distance from the door to the table. The screen was still open to the submission page, and there it was. The photo of him mid-orgasm, smack in the middle of San’s otherwise completely innocent portfolio. 

“Why didn’t you delete it?” He looked over, finding San unmoved besides curling in on himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, over and over like a mantra. Wooyoung sighed at the pitiful sight and joined him on the floor. San had his hoodie pulled over his knees and the hood on his head. He was still mad, but he could understand that it was an accident. 

He wrapped his arms around the lump beside him. “If I get expelled, I’m not cuddling you or patting your head for a week.”

San looked at him, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “Why would you get expelled?” 

“Because they’re my nudes.”

“But I’m the one who submitted it. I would be the one that gets expelled,” San sniffled. 

“I think the point still stands.” His little threat did its job, making San laugh a little. He relaxed a little against Wooyoung’s body. 

“I’ll go talk to the professor about it tomorrow. Promise.” Wooyoung hummed quietly. He honestly didn’t think that would do anything. The damage had already been done, and chances were the professor wouldn’t take too kindly to basically having a sex tape submitted in a portfolio even with an apology. 

Oh well. If either of them got expelled, San would just have to live without cuddles and head pats for a week.

❄

The professor was staring at him, her eyes magnified by her glasses. She honestly looked a little worse for wear, definitely a bit past her retirement time. Her scrutinizing gaze had San practically frozen in his seat across from her desk.

“I’m assuming you asked to visit me to discuss the contents of your portfolio,” she finally said, pulling San out of his frozen stupor. 

“Y-yes,” he forced out. He felt so terrible. He should have deleted the photo the day he took it, or at least transferred it to his phone before deleting it if he really wanted to keep it that bad. “It was an accident. I didn’t remember it was still on my camera and just submitted everything that I’d done over the break-”

“The young man in the photo? You seem to have featured him quite a bit.” The professor interrupted him, putting him in another little state of shock. 

“Um, yeah - he’s my boyfriend.” 

She pushed her glasses back up her nose, as they had started to slip down. “It’s strange. The Jung Wooyoung I knew had never looked so…happy, let alone engaged in such activities.” She seemed to be speaking more to herself than San, but he questioned her anyway.

“I’m sorry. You know Wooyoung? He never mentioned having had your class before.”

The professor looked at him, but she wasn’t really looking at him. It was like she was looking through him. “Yes, I knew Jung Wooyoung. A very long time ago.”

San raised a brow questioningly. Unease was beginning to grow in his gut and he wanted nothing more than to be dismissed. It seemed someone upstairs was listening to his plea even though he was an atheist, and granted his wish. 

“I would very much like to see him in person. If you could, we could visit again next week, and include him this time.”

He didn’t really like the idea of bringing Wooyoung to see someone who was so obviously a nutcase, but he couldn’t say that out loud or deny her, considering he was already in enough trouble with her. “Of course.”

The professor made a satisfied sound and made no other effort to add to the conversation. San took that as his cue to leave and slowly rose from his seat. At the door, he turned back into her office. “I’m - I won’t be expelled for the photo, will I?”

“We’ll keep it between us this time.”

San gave her a quick bow and walked out the door, then out of the arts building as quickly as he could to put as much distance between himself and his unhinged professor as possible. As he was heading down the stairs he pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Wooyoung.

**San:  
Did you take any photography classes?  
Like ever?**

Less than a minute later had his answer.

**Wooyoungie:  
Nope  
Why? **

**San:  
The professor said she knew you  
But she was kinda weird in general so  
Just thought i’d ask **

**Wooyoungie:  
Hmmm  
So am I expelled?**

**San:  
No  
Neither am I, thanks for asking**

**Wooyoungie:  
That was my next question!**

**San:  
Mhm sure it was**

**Wooyoungie:  
How dare you doubt me**

**San:  
So what are you doing today?**

**Wooyoungie:  
Nice save, dumbass  
But since you asked  
[photo attached]**

The screen lit up with a mirror selca, showing Wooyoung in a very stained white shirt with bleach on his head, hair looking very orange in its half lifted state. 

**San:  
And what prompted this blasphemy?**

**Wooyoungie:  
Yeosang cut it all off even though he knew I liked it long so now he’s making it pretty to make it up to me**

San looked at the picture again, and what he could see did look shorter. It really was blasphemy, but it did manage to remind him that his own hair probably needed updating. The pink was fun, but it had been the same for months now and his roots were definitely a sore sight.

**San:  
How much do you think he’d charge me for mine?**

**Wooyoungie:  
Lemme ask  
He says a million won**

**San:  
Make it a thousand**

**Wooyoungie:  
Two thousand**

**San:  
One **

**Wooyoungie:  
1,500**

San had a feeling it wasn’t Wooyoung responding to him anymore. He was almost back at the apartment building now. Campus was close enough that he could walk and save a little money on gas. 

**San:  
Deal**

**Wooyoungie:  
What do you want?**

**San:  
Surprise me**

**Wooyoungie:  
You’ll regret that**

❄

It turned out pink was very hard to get out of hair, so instead of making his boyfriend to go bald, Yeosang went the opposite direction and dyed most of his hair jet black and left a little section of his fringe to be bleached to the max and dyed a brilliant shade of turquoise. Wooyoung was glad for that choice, because he really didn’t think he could take a buzzcut San seriously.

Yeosang had gone to take a nap before he had to go to work, leaving Wooyoung to rinse out San’s hair once it was finished. He was grateful for San’s flexibility being able to make it easier to bend him over backwards, but he did almost drop the showerhead on his face when he dropped a bomb on him.

“So, my professor that saw your nudes wants to meet you.”

“What?” 

“That’s how I feel, too,” San mused, directing Wooyoung’s arm to get the spray out of his eyes. “So, are you free to just go tomorrow and get it over with?”

“Did she say why?” Wooyoung thought back to his messages with San earlier in the day. 

“No. But she was really weird. Like, she acted like she knew you. She knew your name, but she still asked me who you were.” He furrowed his brows at San, making him laugh. “I’m serious. She was all like “I knew Jung Wooyoung a long time ago”. It was creepy.”

“I don’t think I want to meet her now.” 

“Well, I already said I would bring you. I don’t want to get expelled.” He sighed, not really able to argue with that. He didn’t want to be expelled either. 

“Fine. I’ll come meet your weirdo professor.” He ran his hand through San’s hair one last time before reaching over and turning the water off. He dropped a towel onto his head and watched him dry off. The towel dropped to his shoulders and Wooyoung took a chance to admire the blue tones of his hair. It wasn’t like the pink hadn’t complimented him nicely, but blues and blacks did something else. He ruffled the damp hair and vacated the bathroom. 

He was almost to the couch when hands grabbed his waist and turned him around. They crashed together into a kiss and backed Wooyoung into the room until he hit the couch and fell down onto it, San on his lap. He knew this wasn’t leading anywhere, it wasn’t pushy enough to lead anywhere, but it was enough to make him laugh despite his distaste for meeting this professor. As soon as the sound left his lips, the kisses ceased, and Wooyoung realized that was the goal all along. 

San moved off his lap to sit beside him, then ran his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair much like he had just been doing. He was still upset about it - he really did like his hair longer - but the lilac shade was beginning to grow on him and make up for the mistake. San also seemed to be enjoying it, so it couldn’t be all that bad. 

“It’ll be quick, I promise.” 

Wooyoung hoped he was telling the truth.

❅

San had lied. It hadn’t been quick so far. They’d been waiting for this professor to show up for fifteen minutes now and Wooyoung was growing impatient. Just when he’d turned to complain to San, the office door opened and revealed the professor. She looked normal, a little frail and older looking, but normal. He didn’t really understand why San had been so freaked out by her until her eyes landed on him.

She looked at Wooyoung like she was seeing a ghost. Her big eyes went wide and her face grew a little pale. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but he held out his hand in an attempt at introduction. “I’m-” 

“Jung Wooyoung,” she breathed, not taking his hand and leaving it awkwardly extended. He let it lower, and he could feel San’s eyes darting between them. 

“Yes,” he responded. The professor sat down in her chair across the desk and began sifting through the drawers. “San said you wanted to meet me?”

She didn’t respond, but she pulled out what looked to be a yearbook dated for 2018. She flipped through the pages and placed a marker between the ones she settled on before looking at him. “Where do you live, Wooyoung?” 

He raised a brow at the strange question, beginning to further understand why San was so freaked out by her. “Um, the apartment complex not too far from here.”

“Do you know about apartment 604?”

Wooyoung’s body felt like it had just been thrown into a vat of ice water. “I live a few doors down from it. How do you know about that room?” 

The professor opened up the yearbook and turned it towards them. Both he and San leaned forward to look at the page, and were met with a photo of himself looking back at them. Himself, but not. He wasn’t smiling, not to mention it was impossible for him to be in a yearbook for a year he hadn’t even been conceived in. Wooyoung looked up at the professor. “I don’t understand.”

“Jung Wooyoung attended this university for less than a semester before dropping out and moving away,” she began, sounding more clear and confident than she had the entire time. “I had him for an introduction to the arts course. He was a very troubled young man, lost his family when he was very young. Sometime after he left, he was back in Seoul, living in that apartment building.” She flipped through the pages until she landed on another, pointed out a photo of the San that wasn’t San. The San who had been haunting his dreams for months.

“He lived with Choi San. Eventually, the two of them fell in love, eloped and got married, and a year after they returned, Choi San passed away from complications with a lung transplant. Jung Wooyoung committed suicide a week later. Does that sound familiar?”

San was shaking his head in disbelief, but Wooyoung was on the edge of his seat. It added up exactly with the article he’d read. “What are you trying to say?” he asked. 

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Wooyoung?”

Before he could answer, San’s hand was clasped around his and he was standing up from his seat. “I think that’s enough for today, professor. Thank you,” he tugged on Wooyoung’s hand until he followed and stood up, and let himself be led out of the building. It was still busy out on the streets. San’s hand didn’t release his.

“San.” No answer. 

“San,” he tried again. Still nothing. 

“San!” Wooyoung pulled his hand out of the grasp around it, making him finally turn around and face him. “What are you doing?”

“I told you she was crazy, Wooyoung. It has to be some kind of a prank,” he said. 

“But it adds up, that’s exactly what I read, it’s what my dreams are like. How could an old lady come up with a prank like that?” San had begun walking again, making him follow as he questioned him. He had stopped answering again. “San, why don’t you believe me so I don’t feel like I’m going insane all the-” 

“Because I feel like I’m the one going insane right now!” The level of his voice had Wooyoung stopped in his tracks in shock. San had never blown up on him before. “Because I don’t want to believe that the dreams about the dreams I was having before I died are real! I don’t want to believe that the face I’ve been seeing when I close my eyes ever since I was a kid is actually you, because I don’t want something else that makes no sense to be ruling over what my life is like!” 

Wooyoung wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t realized that all this time he hadn’t been the only one feeling, seeing things that didn’t have any real relation to himself. He took a hesitant step towards San, found no resistance, then stepped into his embrace. He felt San’s chest rise against him before his arms came to wrap around him. 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me, San. You don’t have to believe it, but I think this is what I’ll believe.” 

He felt rather than saw San’s nod and moved back to place a kiss to the side of his mouth, right where a dimple would rest if he had been smiling. “I love you.”

San sighed, and Wooyoung felt his worked up stance relax. “I love you, too.”

Wooyoung offered him a smile and held out his hand for a much more gentle grasp. Their fingers laced together. “Let’s go home.”

❅

The room down the hall honestly didn’t interest Wooyoung that much anymore. His interest was more pointed towards reincarnation theories. He read about people who believed in it obsessively. Hell, he even saw a story about a little boy who solved a murder because he claimed the victim had been him. 

San still wanted nothing to do with it, but he had come to terms with the fact that Wooyoung truly believed some form of reincarnation had occurred. He couldn’t say that he wasn’t grateful for the second chance, but he wasn’t sure what he’d done in his past life to earn it. Based on what the professor had said, it sounded like he was a pretty shitty person in his past life. 

With the knowledge of how San’s past life had ended, everything had Wooyoung on edge. Every sigh, every cough. He knew it was annoying San. Every time he would ask if he was okay, he just got the answer, “I’m not dying”. In his paranoia, Wooyoung had even made him hand over his medical records. And he was right. He wasn’t dying. There were never any signs of damage to his lungs. The closest he got to pulmonary fibrosis was a mild case of asthma when San was a baby. 

Still, despite Wooyoung’s newest obsession, San seemed determined to, apparently, spend the rest of his life with him. The showers of love never ceased. Random little gifts would be left outside his door with only a little card with a mountain drawn on them. Cuddles were never not an option when they would spend nights in each other’s apartments. 

Those nights were always his favorites. Nights where they just forgot about university for a while, spent curled up on a couch and watching movies. Most of the time, they didn’t end in sex, and they didn’t need to, because it was always satisfying enough to just be under the same roof. 

It was one of those nights when San looked away from the latest drama they’d started and fixed his eyes on Wooyoung. The attention made him look right back, lips puckered up and expecting a kiss. When he didn’t receive one, they formed into a pout. 

“I’ve been thinking about moving out,” San finally said. 

“Oh,” he tried his best to hide his disappointment. It wasn’t like San would go that far, right? He didn’t say that he was moving away, just that he was moving out. “That’s okay.” 

“And I was wondering if you wanted to come, too. Move in with me.” The disappointment dissipated instantly. 

“Really?” 

“If it’s okay with you.” 

Wooyoung began to nod excitedly and San smiled, dimples out on display and eyes crinkled up. The arm around his shoulders tightened and made them press impossibly closer to each other. Wooyoung didn’t know what the future held, nobody did, but he had a feeling it would be nothing but fruitful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is a little bit late, and for that I'm very sorry! Yesterday was a pretty busy day and I didn't have time to finish up this chapter, so it had to be pushed to today. To make up for it, I do have a few other things finished as well as in the works along with what I have going on already!
> 
> I really hope this ending is satisfying, as I'm not completely happy with it but I'm settling for it.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I look forward to your continued support!

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of the direct sequel to Broken Crayons Still Color is finally here!
> 
> Most of it is already written, so I plan on having updates every Friday around 5 pm EST!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I hope to have your continued support!


End file.
